


No Stranger to Death

by Serketchaos



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Gen, I mean the pairing is kind of there like nico likes percy but hasnt told him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-27
Updated: 2014-01-27
Packaged: 2018-01-10 04:58:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1155370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serketchaos/pseuds/Serketchaos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He doesn't know what he was expecting, but it wasn't this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Stranger to Death

**Author's Note:**

> Based off the what if by tumblr user: [bandsofbooks](http://bandsofbooks.tumblr.com/post/74257024453/nico-di-angelo)
> 
> Do you think when there is a huge massacre or natural disaster like Nico can feel it?  
> Because Nico can sense when someone he knows or is close to dies, right, so what happens if like their a huge earth quake in New York (leading to a large amount of deaths), and everyone is at camp doing their thing, and Nico absolutely comes apart.   
> He just starts shaking and… and..   
> I’m sorry. Never mind.

Death is not a foreign subject to Nico di Angelo. It sort of comes with the whole Son of Hades thing, but it doesn't help that he spends more time in the Underworld than the average person. 

"There you are, Nico!" a voice says. Nico turns his head to see who's trying to get his attention, only to have the sun in his eyes, blinding him for a brief second. Squinting and blocking the sun with one hand he sees that it's Clarisse La Rue of the Ares cabin. 

"Did you need me?"

Blowing some hair out of her face, Clarisse nods. "Yeah. Well, not you specifically, but everyone else is busy so you'll do."

"What are you talking about?" Nico asks, his eyebrows knitting together and the frown ever present on his face growing deeper.

"Sword and shield practise," she says as if it were obvious. "Like I said, everyones busy, and I need someone to help with demonstrations today." She turns without waiting for an answer or even to see if Nico will follow. She gets about ten steps away when she notices Nico isn't following. Without stopping she just calls over her shoulder, "Come on di Angelo, we don't have all day!"

With a sigh Nico gets up from where he was sitting, and brushes the grass and dirt off his dark jeans. He might as well go help out. It's not like he has anything better to do. He's here on official business. Chiron is supposed to get back to him, but who knows how long that'll take.When Clarisse yells at him again to hurry up Nico rolls his eyes, grabbing his sword and follows her to the arena.

In the distance, in the shade of some trees he notices Hestia tending to her fire. The other campers around her don't take notice, as per usual but Nico makes sure to nod his head a little in greeting. She gives a small wave in return and Nico carries on his way.

If you asked Nico, he'd tell you the spirits of the underworld aren't so bad-- the ones in Elysium anyway. They may be dead, but that doesn't mean they don't want to know how people are doing in the land of the living or that they don't have a good story to tell. The spirits Nico tends to drift towards are those who are lonely, those who are often forgotten, those who are looking for a friend; those like Bob and Hestia. 

Why he seems to gravitate towards these sorts of people is a story for another day, he thinks.

"This is Nico di Angelo, everyone," Clarisse says in way of introduction when they reach the arena.

Nico stands to her right, and behind her a little. She likes to pace and throw her arms around when she informs the others of what they'll be do that day. Nico would much rather not be hit before they even started to spar. Casting a glance around the arena he sees that there are quite a few demi-gods here. Some faces he knows already, but most he's never laid eyes on before. They look at him as if he radiates death-- which of course he does. He's sure Clarisse will be informing them of this fact soon enough.

"He's a child of the Big Three," she continues, and Nico suppresses a grim smirk. He would really rather that she not do this, but then again she has young impressionable demi-gods to impress here. "Child of Hades to be exact." Of course their faces go from the split second of awe back to repulsion and fear. "He'll be helping me demonstrate some of the more advanced disarming techniques, and at the end of the session if you've all learned enough, Nico and I will spar with each other to demonstrate how all your training looks like when put together in a real battle." She pauses briefly and then turns to face Nico, drawing her sword.

Nico silently draws his sword and gets into position. He can feel all the eyes on him, and he doesn't like it. His stomach twists uncomfortably, which is stupid, he thinks, because he strode into a war against Kronos like it was no big deal, and yet here he is feeling awkward because he's being watched by some kids.

Helping with the demonstration a a pretty mindless task and Nico finds his mind wandering. Kronos. The Great Prophecy that brought the Titan War was years ago. If literally being surrounded by the dead wasn't enough for Nico to understand the weight of death, then there was the fact that he's lived through war while his fellow campers died around him; felt their spirits pass on in the midst of battle.

They lost many friends in the struggle against Kronos, Silena and Charles included. Then there was the Prophecy of Seven. Luckily no one of the prophecy died, but many died in the fight to protect camp. He could feel their spirits departing to the Underworld all around him and he couldn't do anything to help.

He remembers the first time he experienced the sensation of someone passing on. A cold chill down his spine and then like apart of himself was missing even though all he'd been doing was sorting through his Mythomagic cards. At the time he'd thought nothing of it-- everyone gets the chills sometimes, but then Percy came back to camp with the news. At the ripe old age of eleven Nico di Angelo had lost his sister forever. He didn't think he'd ever stop missing her.

Nico breaks his train of thought to help out two young demi-gods who couldn't have been older than thirteen.

"Sorry," Nico says leaning in to correct one of the boys' posture, "may I?

The kid seems tense, as most are around Nico, but nods and allows Nico to move him.

"Your elbows are too high," Nico comments brining the boys elbows down to a better spot. "No, no don't lock them now, keep them bent-- yeah, better. Relax a little more, you can't be too tense." Pressing a hand to the kids back and pulling his shoulders back Nico gets the kid to stand up straighter. "Now let's see how you do."

Right away there's improvement. The kid must see it too because his face lights right up. Nico takes time to help the kids partner and then moves on. 

The hour rolls by like this. Correcting posture and technique. Most kids prefer Clarisse to help them, but Nico isn't too taken aback by it. He's grown used to it from the living. The dead don't care so much if he radiates death seeing as they have nothing to fear from him.

Clarisse, at the end of the session, has decided that yes everyone has learned enough to warrant the promised sparring session between herself and the Son of Hades. They both check their armour again to make sure its on secure, and then draw their weapons. 

Nico's never trained with Clarisse before so he's not sure what he should be expecting, and honestly, he doesn't know why he agreed to this. Usually he just trains with spirits and such, so this is very strange for him. He decides that she'll probably be pretty aggressive in battle is a safe best seeing as she is a daughter of Ares. 

He wishes Chiron would get back to him so he could leave. 

"Three points decides the winner?" Clarisse suggests.

Nico only nods.

She smirks as she says, "Good. Then this will be over quick."

They start facing each other, weapons poised and raised. One of the Campers signals the starts of the match, and slowly they start to circle each other. Nico could feel the confidence rolling off Clarisse. He sees her lips turn up into a sly grin, and she lunges. 

The audience audibly holds their breath as Nico doges to the right, narrowly avoiding getting clipped in the side. Clarisse doesn't waste a second. Quickly, she turns trying to get a point in, but Nico's light on his feet. One, two steps back and another to his right he puts some distance between them.

"Don't just run away!" she cries. Just as Clarisse tries for another lunge, Nico ducks, stepping into her guard and manages to land the first point. The audience ooh's appreciatively. Clarisse just frowns and shakes her head as if trying to clear the air. 

They trade feints, thrusts, and parries. Each move so quick, like lightning flashing across the sky, they're hard to follow. The sound of their swords clashing ring throughout the arena. Clarisse's sword play has stepped up, as if all her arrogance from earlier dissipated when Nico landed that first hit. Its all Nico can do to keep her at bay.

Nico thrusts his sword forward and just barely misses his opponent. Clarisse takes the opportunity to land her first point.

The next round goes on in a similar fashion, with both demi-gods trading hits and blows, but the point goes Clarisse again.

"Just one more point and I win," she taunts, gasping a little from the workout.

"Don't think it'll be so easy," Nico says, also straining a little from the match, but he's grinning a little. It's been awhile since he's trained like this, and he'll admit that he's having fun-- even if he is dealing with Clarisse of all people. 

Again, they circle each other slowly. Each step Nico takes, Clarisse matches. It's an elaborate dance they're acting out and they have their audience's attention wrapped around it like woven thread.

Nico's in motion, dashing towards Clarisse when it happens.

He stops dead in his tracks when suddenly it feels as if all the heat in his body has left him. His sword clatters to the ground noisily as a violent tremor rocks down his spine and shakes his body. Nico wraps his arms around his middle in an attempt to hold himself together. Vaguely he's aware of Clarisse calling his name, but it hardly matters to him. Something has happened. Something big-- huge for him to be able to feel so many souls departing for the Underworld like this.

His breathing grows quick and shallow. He's shaking. He's shaking so hard. He can't stop. With every breath he lets out it feels like a part of him is missing. He tries to control it, tries to hold his breath, but he just feels like he's suffocating. He feels like he's the one dying. 

Clarisse puts a hand on his shoulder and Nico harshly jerks away from it, nearly topping over when he does.

"Don't touch me!" he shouts, his voice wild.

Then he freezes. 

Everything stops.

He stops thinking, his stops breathing, and he's pretty sure his heart stops too. 

A scream rips itself from his chest and rebounds off the walls of the arena. It dies as quickly as it started and his hands fly to grab his head because he's wrong. He didn't just feel that. There's no way. There's no way that---

"No, no, no, no," he whispers like he thinks if he says it enough it'll make it true, like if he doesn't think it or say it, it won't be a reality. Numbly, Nico picks his sword up and on wobbly legs he stumbles to the nearest shadow to sink into.

Shadow travel usually takes a lot of effort for Nico to do, and given his state of mind and exhaustion from sparring with Clarisse, its understandable that it takes the demi-god to make two jumps to where he wants to go. 

"Percy?" Nico calls when he arrives in Percy's apartment. He hardly notices the ruin the house is in; the bookshelf that has fallen over, the half working lights, the cupboards hanging open and the smashed plates on the ground. Nico doesn't take any of it in instead he calls again, "Percy?"

As he moves around the apartment Nico has to hold himself around the middle to keep himself from shaking so hard he can't move-- and he's cold. He's so cold. Being so close to those who are dying amplifies everything to the point where for a while minute Nico has to focus on just breathing and pulling himself together.

"Who's there?" a small voice croaks out in the room beside him.

"Percy?" Nico asks, nearly tripping over his own to feet to see who's there. Instead of Percy, he's greeted with Sally Jackson, his mother. "Oh, Mrs. Jackson, are you okay?" Stepping over the debris and rubble, Nico goes to help her.

"I'm fine…" she says, looking at him and trying to place a name. "Nico? Yes. Nico, I'm fine."

The fact that she remembered his name on any other day would have filled him with warm fuzzy feeling entirely unfamiliar to him, but not today. Another shiver runs through his body and this time it's Sally asking if he's okay.

"I'm fine," he gasps. "Are you the only one home? Where's Percy?"

"Paul and Percy both went out earlier," she says. "Why did someth--"

"Where?" Nico says sharply cutting Sally off. "Where did Percy go?"

Nico disappears the second Sally has told him.

And Nico finds him.

He finds Percy.

He appears from the shadows just a few feet away from where Percy is laying, face down, crushed under a stupidly large piece of concrete.

Nico doesn't need to get close to know. He can feel death, and he felt this one in particular all the way back at Camp Half-Blood.

He doesn't know what he was expecting, but it wasn't this. Maybe he was expecting Percy's body to be mangled with legs twisted in a way that would be hard to look at, or maybe on his back with his sword a just out of his reach with cuts and bruises all over his body from the kindly one he sacrificed his life to take down, or maybe he thought and maybe he hoped Percy would live to the ripe old age of ninety-four where he would look just as he does now but maybe with a few more wrinkles.

Because it looks likes he's sleeping. Haha, crazy Percy!! He just crawled under a block of cement and decided to take a nap!!

Yeah, a dirt nap.

Nico doesn't even notice that he's crying until he's walked over to Percy's body; Percy's corpse.

Great heaving sobs escape Nico, and he clutches at the back of Percy's orange camp shirt uselessly. The ground trembles and shakes around him and splits open somewhere in the distance, but Nico can't bring himself to care. He can hardly control his emotions, never mind his powers.

Percy has always smelled like the sea, but now just smells like ash, and like death. His body is already cool and growing rigid. 

Nico's screaming again. Screaming so loud. Screaming enough that his vocal chords are pulled taught and he thinks he might taste blood. Each gasp for air between screams feels like claws raking down his throat.

His mind can't comprehend it. This can't be true. It couldn't have happened. Its not possible, he's just having yet another nightmare from his time in Tartarus, and yet Nico is very well aware that this is reality. It happened. His mind has not short-circuited no matter how much it feels like it has. Nico felt Percy--

He can't bring himself to think it.

Nico di Angelo is no stranger to death. It sort of comes with being a demi-god, and doubly for him being the Son of Hades who spends more time than the average person in the Underworld. It's hard to be a stranger to it, when as a demi-god he's flirting with death every day, and when he feels people leave for the Underworld. When at the age of eleven his sister was taken from him, when in war he lost fellow campers.

He is no stranger to death and yet it's like he's never even thought about the concept of death before this very moment. His heart has been ripped in so many ways already, but this might leave the deepest scar on it yet.

Percy Jackson, stupid, loyal, brave, courageous, Percy Jackson. 

"Come back," Nico chokes out.

Percy Jackson with his kelp filled seaweed brain, who was, who is loved by so many…

"Come back to me…" Nico drops his head to rest on Percy's cool back, letting the tears run down his cheeks and soak into Percy's orange shirt.

Percy Jackson, Son of poseidon, Hero of Olympus, is dead.

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaaaa, this is my first piece of writing in a long time so its a bit messy, but i would really appreciate some feedback on it, and if you see any mistakes please let me know!!


End file.
